


The Right Man for the Job

by skarlatha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel drops in while Dean is having some private time, and Dean educates Cas on some much needed terminology. Or, alteratively, "Confused Cas is Confused." Set sometime during season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Man for the Job

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [合适的人选](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075134) by [InnocentDays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnocentDays/pseuds/InnocentDays), [skarlatha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha)



After Sam left to go get some supplies, Dean couldn’t go back to sleep. He stared at the ceiling for a little while, then decided he might as well have a little bit of personal time. He got up and put the chain on the motel door in case Sam tried to come back too soon, then pulled off his clothes and stretched out on top of the bedcovers and reached down.  
  
Dean wrapped his fingers around his cock and started stroking firmly, with quick, well-rehearsed strokes. Sam wouldn’t be gone for very long, so this wasn’t the time to go slowly and savor the experience. This was just a quick jerk, just to relieve some tension. He closed his eyes and thought about Princess Leia.  
  
Not in the sexy slave outfit, though--somehow the flowing white dress had always been what did it for him. When he’d been younger, he’d thought that the dress had looked angelic. Now he knew better. Angels wore loose ties and ridiculous beige trenchcoats and were incredibly irritating.  
  
Dean wondered for a minute where Cas was. He hadn’t seen him in a few days, which was more upsetting than he cared to admit. He should send him a text when he was done. Just check in on him, make sure he was okay. Or, really, he should just call. He hadn’t taught Cas how to read or respond to texts yet. And it would be nice to hear his voice, Dean guessed. Whatever _that_ meant.  
  
But what was more upsetting than the fact that he hadn’t seen Cas in several days was the fact that he was thinking about him while he was rubbing one out. And what was more upsetting than _that_ was the fact that somehow he’d gotten even _harder _ since detouring his thoughts from Princess Leia to Castiel.  
  
He heard the almost inaudible wingbeats and groaned, keeping his eyes firmly shut. “Dammit, Cas,” he growled. “Get out of here.”  
  
There was a beat of silence, then Castiel asked, “What are you doing?”  
  
“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Dean snapped. He gave himself another stroke, because he refused to give the angel the satisfaction of seeing him flustered.  
  
Another pause. “I mean... what are you doing?”  
  
“I’m fucking _masturbating_ , Cas,” Dean almost yelled. “Now if you’re not going to come over here and blow me, get out of this room!”  
  
In answer, Dean just heard the rustle of feathers and the swooshing sound that meant Castiel had winked out to... wherever it was he went. Dean gave a sigh of relief and started rubbing again. His cock was somehow even harder, so hard that it was almost painful.  
  
“I don’t really see...” Cas began, his voice only inches from Dean this time. Dean shrieked at an embarrassingly girlish pitch and scrambled away from the angel who was now kneeling at the side of the bed.  
  
“Mother _fucker_ , Cas, don’t _do_ that.” Dean grabbed the blanket and dragged a corner of it over his crotch. Having Cas see his cock in the dim light from across the room was one thing, but having him only a couple of feet away while the stupid thing pointed directly at him was entirely something else.  
  
“I apologize,” Castiel murmured. “I thought it best to move quickly.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you’re a dick,” Dean answered. “Get the fuck out of here. Seriously.”  
  
“Oh,” Cas said, looking slightly put out. “But I thought you wanted me to stay.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “I said you either had to leave or give me a blow job. And since you’re obviously not going to blow me, that means you need to _get out_.”  
  
“As I was saying, I don’t really see how blowing you would give you pleasure, but I’m willing to try it if you want.” Cas looked up at him, catching Dean’s eyes, and Dean let out a little whimper before he could stop himself.  
  
Dean stared at Cas for several seconds, then shook his head hard and slowly laid back down on the bed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but fine. Blow me.” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.  
  
He could hear Castiel rustling around, getting into position, and then... nothing. A soft breeze hit his cock and for a second he wondered if Cas had chickened out and fluttered away after all. He opened his eyes.  
  
The angel was kneeling on the ground, leaning over the edge of the bed with his lips close to Dean’s cock. He was... Dean squinted, just to make sure he was seeing correctly. Cas had his lips puckered, and he was doing exactly as he was told. Blowing Dean. With air. From his lips.  
  
Dean busted out laughing.  
  
Castiel snapped his head around to glare at Dean. “I don’t see the humor in this.”  
  
“You’re...” Dean wheezed and tried again. “You’re _blowing_ me. Oh my god, you’re blowing on me.”  
  
“Yes,” Cas said, wrinkling his forehead. “That’s what you wanted.”  
  
“Oh my god, you’re so fucking cute, Cas.” Dean’s laughter died down to a chuckle. “You’re supposed to suck it. Like put your mouth around it and, you know, bob your head. Run your tongue over it. Not... not _blow_ on it.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Cas said. “It’s called a ‘blow job’ but you’re not supposed to blow.”  
  
“That’s right.” Dean sat up in bed and ruffled Cas’s hair. “I keep forgetting you’re a virgin, dude. Sorry.”  
  
“Why do they call it that, then? Shouldn’t it be a ‘suck job’ if you’re supposed to suck?” Cas frowned deeply and looked away.  
  
Dean let his hand fall from Cas’s hair to his cheek. “Hey, honest mistake. Why don’t we try this again?”  
  
Cas turned his head quickly toward the door. “Your brother is back. You should put on some pants.” He disappeared without looking at Dean again.  
  
Dean moaned and flopped back down on the bed for a second, then retrieved his pants and just barely had them back on before Sam got to the door and cursed at him for having the chain on it. Cas didn’t come back that night, but it didn’t matter. Dean knew now. And now that he knew, it was only a matter of time.    



End file.
